


Empires

by TheEmeraldBlonde



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Character Death, Character Study, Dysfunctional Family, Female Homosexuality, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Psychological Trauma, Sexual Content, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-04 11:12:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEmeraldBlonde/pseuds/TheEmeraldBlonde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When his Father dies in a storm, Joey Wheeler is left with extremely valuable and rare Duel Monster© cards which leads him to New York to unravel the mysteries surrounding his Family Tree and its origins. Meanwhile Joey harbours the memoires of his oldest ancestor: Jono the Slave/Jonus the Grand. Joey soon discovers his luck and new fortunes are a part of a never ending cycle of what’s happened in the past. Joey must learn how to succeed before Jono’s past comes back to haunt him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empires

Never being focused on such things; Joey couldn’t believe that what Yugi had said to him earlier. His jaw frozen against the chill of that icepack Nurse Haley gave him on the tabletop when Yugi had mentioned something strange to him; something that made Yami besides him freeze in a cold sweat while the rest of the gang blinked in a confused manner. 

“You know something Joey, it’s like your eyes change colour when you fight Kaiba.” Well damn. Joey had never heard something so stupid in his whole life- not when his father was drunk, not when his mother was limply sobbering down the phone to him at one o’clock at night, not even when Yami and Kaiba were having their own little bitch off in the middle of a tournament. His eyes have never changed colour, they were Wheeler eyes. Wheeler eyes were, by fault of nature, dark and dirty. They couldn’t change. They were too stubborn. They never had done so before. 

Sure, he heard stories on how Yugi’s baby doll violet eyes could play magic tricks and transform into pastel pink into glittering diva plum or how Duke’s emeralds could shut down to forest hazel when exhausted, heck, even Têa’s bubbly blue ones could become trashing tsunamis when she was outraged...or someone said friendship was junk. But then there were his eyes; could they change colour? No. They couldn’t change colour at all. They were his eyes. His own he had since birth and they weren’t anything glorious or core-shuddering. He couldn’t make a 5,000 year old Pharaoh crumble with a flicker of his eyelids, he couldn’t make teenage girls faint with a wink or butter flutter them softly for a bigger tip from grubby old men. 

“Uh; what colour do they go Yug?” Joey asked, pressing the chilling package to his chin. 

“Red.” was the only answer Yugi could say. Yami shuffled awkwardly in his seat. 

“Red...you sure Yugi?” 

“Yes; I swear on my puzzle, I saw your eyes flash red. The brightest red I have ever seen. They were like two pools of strawberry syrup.” Yugi said. Sipping on his milkshake’s straw with that look of cute mischief on him. His legs dangled from cherry leather pillows. 

“Red- That’s crazy Yug, my eyes are brown, in case you dunno.”

“I saw it. Your eyes went red, didn’t you guys see this?”

“No” Tea spoke.   
“Nu” Tristan agreed. Ryou shook his head in agreement.

“Yami?” Yugi nudged his boyfriend lightly, causing Yami to break out of his day-dream. 

“Uh, no, I’m sorry Little-one.” Chattered Yami distantly, checking his nails idly.

“I swear! Your eyes did change colour when you were fighting with Kaiba!” Yugi pushed, using his purple eyes as weapons to get Joey to believe him.   
“Maybe Joey popped an eye vessel.” Ryou suggested softly. “You can do that, you know, in fights and when people get angry.” Yugi shook his wee head and gulped down a glop of milkshake. 

“No, it wasn’t a popped blood vessel; it was Joey’s iris that was red, all of it. It wasn’t the white bit, just his iris. That’s why it’s so creepy.” Oh what a fine kettle of fish. 

“OH- Oh geez Yug, thanks.” Joey mourned. “Now I’m creepy. Great, thanks...” He leaned back on his seat and eyes Yugi’s milkshake almost enviously. He could feel his stomach inside of him rippling with a wave of hunger. He ignored it like he had done for years and tips back as boyishly as his nature would allow. “You must get your eyes tested Yugi, really. Maybe I hit Moneybags too hard and his blood spluttered in your view.”

Tristan cheered with a joyful grin on his face. “Yeah Bud, that must be it.” 

“I dunno guys, it sure looked like Joey’s eyes did flash red.” 

“Yug, you’re just exhausted.” 

“I am not exhausted!” Yugi pouted sternly, so promptly that his sweet bottom lip quavered in slight anger. “I know, for a fact, that your eyes did turn red!” Mucky eyes blinked. 

“Okay geez Yug, it’s just, I’ve never heard anyone call this out before, I’ve never seen it, it’s just..” Joey babbled on until the words cemented against his teeth. He couldn’t think as the pain on his jaw blossomed more powerfully against the fabric ice. He glanced at the window. The day outside was turning grey for some reason, a few droplets of water where splattered here and there. A dark shadow of his silhouette was misted into the glass, behind the lights of the shop. Joey could barely make out the colours. If his eyes were red, or could turn red he didn’t see anything. “...I don’t see it.” 

“Because there wouldn’t be anything to make out. I don’t think your eyes go red Joey.” Yami said sheepishly, putting more than enough focus on his nails. Joey could feel the glare Yugi was delivering into his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

The wind whistled. Joey couldn’t stop watching the darken clouds rolling in over the high city sky points. A slight flicker of light cracked with a spark here and there; just lightly, no more than a peppering of flashes. Joey could see the grandest, fattest, hugest building stood proud amongst the others like they were pitiful weeds against the might of a sunflower. The blood under Joey’s skin rolled with a boil of hot trembling waves locked in a kettle. He felt his face steaming as he saw those two fucking letters lined up on that clean wall. Joey’s jaw jittered with reviving pain, his nails scrapped white flaky paint on the table. They twitched without command. His knees bounced off each other in volts. His new- reowned red converses squeaked the diamond specked floor. Hatred flooded him-

“THERE! Right there, Joey your eyes went red!”Yugi slumped frantically across the table, pointing at Joey’s face. 

“Uh?” 

“When you were looking out the window, your eyes went red! Guys did you see that?!” The gang now clumped together in a knotty package of pieces. 

“I saw something.” Têa added. “It was like a quick boom. It wasn’t much. But it was there.” 

“Bullshit!” 

“Têa saw it too!” Yugi defended.

“Okay, okay, so what if my eyes change colour? Is there a problem with that?” Joey almost snarled, but managed to keep his tone down. He glanced back at the window; he focused his eyes to the dark, wet, patchy pavement where a newspaper sprang across. The wind rustled the rotting leaves still hanging in the trees, tearing a few off in its wake. The clouds where now on the edge of brooding with darkness, like they contained all the weight of the world and soon, the flood gates would open. He heard Yugi say something in the distance, but Joey couldn’t understand him. His whole being was now trapped by this brewing. The air released a slow, miserable moan that shook him to his core. He could see the now brighter lightening ripping the pages of the sky. All the sun had gone, now the grey has consumed the blue.

“It’s getting awfully bad out there.” Ryou muttered. “I need to get home.”

“Yeah man, look at it, this doesn’t look good. I need to get home before my Mom kills me.”

“Let’s go home Little-one.”

Home: what a filthy word to use around him. It was no better than a curse. Joey could smell the booze and cheap tobacco and he wasn’t even near that damned stack. Joey could feel the slight tension eat at his muscles. The wind roared with a daring thundering of nasty light. It was a light brighter than the flames of hell. It would have to be...for all the misery he’s seen. Joey picked up his torn rook stack and threw it over his shoulder with the rest of the gang.

“You’re going to be okay Joey?” Yugi looked at him with those dolly eyes of his. The hidden link between them shone again. Yugi bit his lip when Joey nodded, assuring him he’ll be fine. Naturally the born survivor would say such things. But Yugi knew him better. Yugi clasped Joey’s bony arm and gave it a squeeze. “Promise me you’ll protect yourself.” 

“I always do.”

“There’s room for-” Joey shook his head as they walked out the door. Yugi snuffed strongly as he pulled at his backpack. Yugi looked after the blonde as he raced through the deep puddles with regret. The rain dribbled down his nose and his soft bangs. He felt a toasty hand gripping his shoulder lovingly. 

“He’ll be fine Abiou. Joey is the living saying: what doesn’t kill you make you stronger.”

“Sometimes...even the unbreakable have their limits Yami.” The wind rustled, causing discarded cans to rattle down on the cement. 

The dust for the street sanded at Joey’s skin. Heavy gusting heaved down his neck with spitting rain drops. The dirty puddles in his way sloshed against his blue trousers and soaked his red shoes. His toes were freezing, his legs were aching from the chill and he bone shook to the marrow with wetness. Joey was drowned in the churning waters of the pouring storm. Gasping for some grasp of air, he felt his lungs impact on themselves. He prayed that Jacob would be passed out on the couch, just this once. He could sense the clouds rolling in behind him, as if the wrath of the Gods were nipping his tail. The rain trickled through the fluffy texture, little tiny bullets designed to shot at the hard world below. Joey did his best to dodge the rain’s advances, shielding his head with his blue jacket the best that he could. He battled against the elements the best he could. He slipped down muddy, steep hills, making his red converses’ white soles brown. The grass was too slick for him to glide on without tripping. But he ran on it anyway. The grass knotted against his ankles, three times they entangled together to pull him down to the dirt. He got up every time; a new part of him aching in pain, to him, trekking on had no alternative. It was such a relief when he saw his house from the top of the Maple Street Hill where he stood. 

Joey and his father lived on the edge of Domino. There was nothing there at the edge of Domino, nothing but boundless dead fields and a few fruitless trees scattered somewhere in the distance. There were odd twin houses dotted around with his own wooden stack. Joey dared to believe his house could be warm if cared for right. He limped slightly down the road; he could see orange lights and cheerful silhouettes in the windows of the other houses. Then where was his own. Weak, battered slightly. A slight gush of the wind in the wrong direction could make that house wail in pain. 

Inside, Joey put a pan down in the corner where the water was leaking in. The house was dark-that was how he liked it. Jacob laid lifelessly sprawled on the tattered sofa: a bottle in hand, a cigarette in his other finger and ash in his beard. The TV flickered static and showed nothing. He must have been tried from this morning’s spat. 

Joey spent a moment watching his father. The root of his life’s problems was flopped in front of him in a dream and combat boots. How easy it would be for him just to finish him now? How much would it hurt him just to put Jacob, his sister and himself at peace? Not much: a pillow, a knife or even his father’s shot gun would easy service. Just if he had the balls to kill him...Joey wondered if his father was ever in pain, at nights, sometimes his father would pine after a shadow’s name and Joey himself spent much of his nights dreaming of being free. Joey clenched his fist, until it went white. This pest of a being, this scum cost him everything- his childhood, his adolescence and he was pretty sure his adulthood would be spent being hunted by loan sharks too. Joey had no emotions left. He wasn’t a parent. He wasn’t even a man. He was a drunk, screaming for his whore of an ex-wife. Joey spent all his patience. 

Lightening flashed. He heard those sirens hollering out. A child screamed bloody murder from outside. Snapping from his trace, Joey ran out the house in a rush. The wind ripped at his clothes, the rain flooded the fields and a burning tree was crumbling. The clouds gathered together as one. Joey’s eyes widened. Like a dragon roaring down, the storm crackled white static, collecting grand power to strike down at mortals with force. Joey locked himself in the cellar. He stuffed a shovel against the door handles. The Strom banged on the door with three almighty stomps. 

Joey panted as he landed to the safety of the mattress. A flickered the light on as he sat down. The bare blub swung side to side. He curled up to the mattress and prayed that this would all be over soon. He could hear it. The Strom was ripping the street apart. He heard glasses and cups, plates and dishes from upstairs being smashed. A window was breaking with a CRASH. Joey buried himself in the springs of the mattress. The Thunder roared angrily as wood was being splintered. Wrapping himself in an old blanket, Joey clasped his eyes shut. The wind wooed him, making him jump with spooky noises. He clapped his ears shut. The sounds of the doors creaking on their rotting hinges made his heat sink to new depths. Joey tried his best not to sob. He rolled uncontrollably on the mattress. Rocking himself to sleep if he could. In the dark patch of the room, he found one of Serenity’s old cuddly toys from a box; it pecked out at him sweetly. Joey grabbed the dragon plush he had gotten his sister all those years ago. He inhaled the staleness and was relaxed by her scent. He grasped onto that plush for the dear life of himself. He tears down his cheeks were so regular that they were as engraved as the River Nile was engraved in Egypt. With every few sobs he smelt that dragon. The wind gushed. Would he make it out alive? The Storm was dying, the wind had softened to a blow, the trees stopped rattling, the rain pattered carefully. Joey released a jittered gasp. He got up from his nest. 

A new thing looked back at him. From the mirror Joey could see himself. He could see his fear, his tears and his new eyes. Yugi was right. His eyes do go red. A red Joey had never seen before. Red so deep that it they it looked like a pool of fresh blood or even a crimson rose. He was shaking. Visibly shaking. That wasn’t natural-no human should have eyes like that!   
“Stop it...Stop it. Stop it. Stop It. STOP IT!” Joey screeched. 

He threw a pebble from the ground and shattered the mirror to pieces. The Strom raged up, yowling up a scream from a dragon. The wind was caused by flapping wings, the thunder by the flames, the panic by an ungodly roar! Joey grimaced, scrunching his eyes, begging the red to go away. 

All he could see were salty tears and flames! A woman in white robes cowered in the corner, pushing a child out of the way, protected behind her. A man in the other corner shifted away slowing against the wall in fear. The orange flames were so hot, the smoke was engulfing him, but it didn’t hurt. They surrounded him, bowing to him like a King. The flames were worshipping him, they danced for him. A lifeless body was dead on the floor; black hair was flat on the ground. With a breath, his lips didn’t move but he boomed. 

“STOP IT!”

A dragon cried out. 

He could see it now. A black dragon, with glowing red eyes, eyes like his own. They shimmered before the beast stroke.   
\-----------

Joey woke up to bird-song. 

He was still in the cellar and he could remember every second of The Storm before he passed out. He sighed in relief. It was over. He rose careful and stuffed his sister’s doll in his jacket pocket. Joey stride over all the boxed junk and moved the shovel out of his position. He was hungry, he was exhausted, he was not ready for school today. He opened the cellar doors to a sight. 

Policemen in cars, with their blue sirens flashing off, a red fire-truck was outside his house, Nine o’clock news were at there with that pretty newslady from Channel Five. A million eyes were on him as he exited the cellar. A fireman rushed to his side quickly. 

“Son, are you okay?” 

“What’s going on, why are you here?” 

“Son, there’s been an accident-“

“JOEY!”

Yugi leaped and landed into Joey’s arms. His little face was red with sobs and his eyes leaked salty eyes of joy. Impacting, Joey stumbled down to the floor, Yugi on top of him, crying waterfalls. Joey had no choice but to hug his friend tightly. He felt how strongly Yugi held onto him. The power left in those tiny finger tips. His shirt was transparent with Yugi’s sobs, his chest was soaked. Again. 

“Oh Joey-Joey, Joey...I thought you were dead! I saw the news- I saw the body- I thought I lost you.” Yugi cried.

“Wha- What’s going on? What body?” 

“Joey...I’m so sorry.” 

“What the hell is going on?!” 

“Excuse me boys. I think you should get off him Son, he’s delusional.” The Fireman coughed, pealing Yugi off of Joey with care. Joey limped himself up, swaying slightly. He was dizzy, hungry, thirsty, tried and lost. Everyone was watching him. The policemen had rolled out the blue and white tape, the camera vans were eager to see him, the firemen sighed happily, an ambulance flashed green lights at him in the road.   
“What happened...” 

“I’m sorry Son...” 

Joey spun around. He gasped.

The house behind him was gone. It had been ripped down by the might of the Strom. Left behind were long boards of dark wood, brass piping and a few white tiles from the kitchen. Ash and broken cement stuck into the ground. Smashed glass and snapped doors with damaged knobs darted out the rubble. Plates and cups have been robbed away from the trashed cupboards. The sofa had survived, but was buried under the weight. Joey could see a few pieces of his own clothes left torn on wooden stakes. The bathtub was covered in dust and held an unmarked empty green bottle of Jacob’s favourite beer stood in the dust, as if it was in sand and this was a holiday by the beach. Joey shook his head.

“Where’s...” He uttered so wimpy that the Fireman barely heard him. 

“...He didn’t make it...”

Joey could now see behind him the lump under the white sheet, lifeless on a metal lab table. People in green were shuffling around against the cold, fumbling with their hands.   
So this was it. He was alone. 

The worst part was, he stood there, emotionless, still and unmoved. People around him muttered how terrible and tragic it was that his young lad’s home and family had been shattered to nothing. But he felt nothing. Not pain, nor relief. Just nothing.

Yugi clasped onto his side and held him lovingly. 

Joey stood against the wind that teased his hair lightly. He had nothing left, not even sadness in his heart.


End file.
